


From Above, He Shined Light

by oresama



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, POV Third Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oresama/pseuds/oresama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He promised he would wait for his king on the other side; however, he hadn't anticipated that they would meet again so soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Above, He Shined Light

**Author's Note:**

> ***please read "from below, he saw darkness" first! this drabble is somewhat a continuation of it, although it holds its own direction and setting as well. although his name is not mentioned, this is told from totsuka's point of view.

It had come as a surprise to him, the moment the gun fired — the moment the bullet entered his chest.

He tumbled forward with momentary worry for his camera, which had slipped from his grip and had taken a harsh fall to the ground.

The spreading pain distracted him soon after, pushing out all other thoughts.

_Ah... so this is where I meet my end?_

Here, of all places, after narrowly escaping so many dangerous situations he had gotten tangled into for HOMRA. Here, of all places, simply shot down by some mysterious white-haired teenager, claiming to be a king.

_...It’s painful._

===

He opened his eyes to Yata’s frightened face a while later.

He willed him not to cry, willed him to not worry, willed him to replace those tears with that usual spunky smile of his.

**“Don’t worry… Everything will be fine.”**

Merely speaking the words brought pain to his chest; more air seemed to be escaping his lungs. His gaze blurred until he could see no more light, but only a single face burned into memory.

“Totsuka-san, don’t go to sleep!”

The plea fell upon deaf ears as his senses faded from use. He murmured his final words.

**“…I’m sorry.”**

_I’m sorry, King. I’m sorry I didn't get to say good bye. I’m sorry for wasting all you've done for me._

_I’m sorry for leaving you behind._

He breathed his last breath, and all was silent.

===

Heaven was a new experience for him, certainly.

He had gotten used to things after a week or so. The place was calm, friendly. Bright. A reflection of his own personality, yet still lacking his most important aspect.

His fire.

===

In heaven, people were able to develop a special sense towards presences — they could simply _feel_ someone’s arrival to the afterworld, even if their souls were miles apart.

He found this interesting; he sought to learn more about this place every day.

In heaven, time stood frozen — as it would then, and as it would for eternity.

He had all the time in the world, if he wished to use it.

And he fully intended to. He wanted to learn more, more and more. He wanted to become capable and surprise his king when his life came to an end, when they would be able to greet each other once more. He hoped his king would live a long, full life. He anticipated as such.

However, it still didn’t keep him from thinking about him every moment, with each passing second, minute, hour, and day.

At times, he thought he could still hear the king’s voice inside his head, scolding him for leaving so early, yet requesting for him to wait for their reunion.

And he always agreed. It didn’t matter to him whether or not the voices were real. What mattered was the memory of the king, _his_ king, and all he could do to ensure his happiness once they met again in this peaceful world.

**_“I’ll be waiting for you, King.”_ **

**_“Always.”_ **

===

He gathered all the knowledge he could with his utmost effort— about heaven, about how processes worked, about each individual’s ability to sense other souls around them.

He gradually started to understand the concept — whenever there was a new death, there was a new arrival at heaven as well. And, despite not knowing who it was, he would always feel the newcomer’s presence being welcomed into this world, as did everyone else.

He rather enjoyed the sensation, in fact. It was lonely, yet warm; a relief, yet bittersweet.

And so it came even more of a surprise to him when one soul in particular arrived not long after his own. The feeling itself left him breathless, hopeful — dangerously so. Yet, at the same time, he was disbelieving and frightful.

He hadn't expected this person to show up this early.

He hadn't hoped so.

He’d wanted for his man to live a complete, fulfilled life without him. He’d wanted this man to find his happiness on Earth.

But this presence could not be mistaken — fiery red, immovably strong, always hiding a warmth unspoken of. He would not mistake that presence for anyone else’s.

And so, he drifted towards that presence. The pull was almost magnetic, the way he seemed to draw closer and closer to it, as if it wasn't by choice. The same word echoed repeatedly in his mind.

_King… King…!_

Then, as suddenly as his presence had appeared, there he was. His king's hair was still as bold as ever; his gaze was still as sharp as ever; his eyes were still as warm as ever.

He stared at his king with wonder and awe. So it really was him. His king had arrived.

It was like nothing had changed.

But the fact that his king was standing here now meant that meant he’d died then, didn't he?

He was curious to know how his counterpart’s end had come; he had so many questions to ask, so much information to share, so many apologies to voice.

But at that moment, none of that mattered. His king had arrived.

As always, a soft smile graced his lips to greet his king’s return.

**“Welcome home, Ki...”**

He paused; a single word sat at the tip of his tongue, having appeared out of habit, but not relevant in its use any longer. This man was no longer a king; they were now equals in this world. There were no kings or queens here, but simply those who have completed their journey through life.

He welcomed a new word into his routinely greeting — one that warmed his smile even further, bringing the rare twitch of a smile to the king’s lips. One that filled his breathless words with his content, his bliss, and his happiness.

**“Mikoto.”**

**Author's Note:**

> this was actually written right after the other part through mikoto's view, which would make that around 4am... i'm sorry otl; feedback is, of course, appreciated -- i will try my best to improve. ;u; thank you for reading!


End file.
